


Style...ish

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Comedy, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Sass, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie drags Sam to shop for clothes to Sam's dismay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style...ish

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after getting this prompt: "Sam shopping for clothes, casually picking out the most gawdy shirts because they're cheap and colorful, and literally everyone in the store -- including any characters you want -- feel the pressing urge to intervene and help him out."

Sam followed Charlie into the department store. This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to go with her to the Apple store to have her newest tablet looked at. He didn’t realized it was in a mall. He hated malls. And shopping for clothes. Charlie sensed this.

“Perk up, Sunshine!” She demanded. “It won’t be that bad.” 

He made a show of a big ironic smile in good humor. 

"That was a pitiful attempt but I’ll take it. Relax, we won’t take long."

"We?" Sam inquired as horror struck him. He suddenly realized they were headed for the men’s section.

"If no one else is going to get you to replace that thing, then I have to step up and be the one! You can thank me later."

"But what’s wrong with it?" Sam looked down at the orange and maroon shirt he was wearing for the second time that week, the one he had had for years.

"I don’t know," she hesitated. "It just… if it makes you look like you have bacon stapled to your chest, I’d say get rid of it."

A slight pout formed on his face. He didn’t really notice how he looked in his clothing aside from when he had to wear a suit to look like an agent. Aesthetic was not why he ever picked what he picked to wear. Did it fit, did it serve its purpose, is it holeless and free of blood stains? Then it works. 

Charlie cracked her knuckles as she headed for a rack of nice v-neck knitwear. There were no patterns, no flanel within eyesight, and it made Sam furrow his brow. She shuffled through the hangers, narrowing her eyes as she scrutinized each style and color, sometimes bringing the shirt up against Sam’s chest to see what it looked like against his skin. He straightened up each time she did this, looking equally surprised by this action even after it became redundant. 

Finally, Sam stood with a load of new items: 3 v-neck sweaters in forrest green, baby blue, and a pale yellow Sam kind of thought looked like sand; a few button ups with little or no patterns at all, some even short sleeved, (and one was a pale pink); a red hoodie, the only item Sam had made no face nor any whimpering noise about when she added it; a sweatervest and a bright purple tie; a dark gray and black leather jacket Charlie couldn’t seem to pass up. Sam was pretty sure she wished it was in her size and was making Sam try it out so she could live vicariously through him. 

Sam looked comical beneath the tower of clothes he held. It was clear he felt like he had been hit by a storm. “So…” he muttered. “Can… can we go now?”

"Go?" Charlie laughed. "No way, dude. You have to try this stuff on!"

Sam went a little pale. “ _All_  of this?”

"Yeah, and come show me how it all looks. It’s true that I’m into the ladies but I’m dying see what you look like in not-plaid. You’re always wearing that baggy coat, too, so no one can see your physique, but I bet if you walk out of here in any one of those light T-shirts, you’ll have girls tripping over themselves to be on your tail."

Sam’s cheeks went red.

He headed toward the dressing room. This was definitely not how he shopped for clothes. As he approached, a rack of shirts caught his eye, all kinds of colors in checkered prints, all kinds of plaid. He turned slightly to check if Charlie was looking and saw her holding bowties to her neck and looking at herself in a mirror on the shelf next to the socks. 

Sam balanced the stack of clothes in one arm briefly to snag one of the plaid shirts, then scurried into the dressing room with a smile.


End file.
